


A Disappointing Evening

by TheBestFallDown



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anger, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Romance, angry snog
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-11
Updated: 2014-04-11
Packaged: 2018-01-18 23:24:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1446721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBestFallDown/pseuds/TheBestFallDown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After both Sherlock and John have an evening of let-downs, they return to the flat and resolve their issues in an unorthodox manner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Disappointing Evening

      Sherlock was pouting. Again. This didn't surprise John, as had learned during his time at Baker Street that Sherlock was always either pouting, frenzied, hyper-focused or bored. There were no other states for him. This particular instance had been brought on by John having a date that night. Sherlock had wanted him to accompany on a stakeout at a nearby park for some case. John didn't really care, as his dating life had hit a rut these past few months. All he cared about was having a nice time with the cashier he'd met last week when he went to get the groceries that Sherlock never bothered picking up.

      He looked at Sherlock one more time, curled up on the couch, facing the wall. “Well then, I'm off. Have fun catching criminals. Make sure not to get yourself arrested or killed.” Sherlock merely grunted, signaling his continued annoyance with being blown off. John shrugged and began to head down the stairs and out towards the street, looking forward to the evening out on the town.

      Sherlock remained staring at the back of the couch, listening as John said his goodbye and closed the door to the flat. He sighed. _No point in going to the park now that John's not coming. I'll just have Lestrade send some of his boys._ Sherlock rolled over to face the room, noticing that his phone was across the room on the fireplace mantle. He stared at it for a few moments, willing it to come closer to him, or at least for John to reappear so he could send the text for him. Sighing yet again, he slowly stood up and traversed the room. He picked up his phone and sent Lestrade a quick text.

    He held the phone in his hand for a moment, considering texting John. He then thought better of it. _He won't answer me. He'll assume I'm trying to lure him back._ Sherlock glanced around the flat, racking his brain in an effort to find something to wile away the hours. _Why does life have to be so boring?_ Not finding anything else satisfactory, Sherlock decided to return to his couch to sulk. As he flopped down, he breathed out yet another heavy sigh. Then promptly sat up, deciding to use this time to look through John's laptop. _If he won't spend time with me, then I'll just have to go to the next best thing._

     Sherlock quickly retrieved the laptop from John's room, and sat down in his chair. He figured he had a good few hours of snooping. John had seemed relatively excited for the date, and being a realistic man Sherlock took this to mean that his date and he had a tangible connection with each other. John may not even come home. _A whole evening to myself._ Sherlock was confused to find that this prospect did not fill him with as much happiness as it had in the past. Before, Sherlock had reveled in his solitude, looking forward to the time when he could be in his domain undisturbed. But now, he found himself wishing that something awful would happen to John's date so that he would have to come home. He would rather have a complaining and irritated John with him than no John at all.

    _Next best thing then._ Sherlock quickly put in the password. _Pink._ Sherlock smiled a bit at the password, a throwback to their first case together. He then took a cursory glance at the desktop. Nothing new was readily available there. He then opened up a web browser. A quick check of browser history showed nothing exciting. He then decided to check through his e-mail. _Boring, boring, boring, boring, wait-no. Boring._ Nothing interesting was popping up at all. This was going to be an awful evening indeed. Sherlock gave up on checking through, finding nothing but work messages and a few unanswered e-mails from Harry. Sherlock's phone then began to ring.

      John was having a lovely time, laughing with Jen and walking through the streets of London. He had turned his phone off, ensuring that there would be no distractions that night. He knew that Sherlock would most likely try some cheap gimmick to get him back to the flat, then make him go to the stupid park for whatever. No, John was going to focus on himself tonight, him and Ja- Jen. Jen. That was her name. He had tuned out of conversation for a moment, and tried focusing again on Jen. She looked at him expectantly. _She asked me a question didn't she. Shit._ John could see that she realized he had not been paying attention. “John, are you alright? You haven't been responding the last few minutes. Got something on your mind.” “No, no. I'm fine. Really.” John said, smiling reassuringly at her. _Dammit, he's not even here and he's still interfering._ With a small shake of his head, John looked at Jen and continued walking and talking with her, trying to focus his mind on the present moment, and not on his ridiculous and overbearing flatmate.

      Sherlock was annoyed. Lestrade had not been able to procure enough extra men for his little sting, as Sherlock had not produced any definitive _proof_ that a new gang had moved into the area and was causing the recent increase in local crime. _But really, how often am I wrong?_ Instead, Sherlock had gone to the park with one other officer, an extremely new one from the look of it. His name was...irrelevant. Not important. He had told the officer to walk around and let him know if he saw anyone suspicious. Of course this was not going to be useful to Sherlock at all, but he did not want to be bothered as he waited. Being alone was much easier. No need for small talk. Just waiting in silence.

     John and his date decided to sit down at a small cafe, outside so they could enjoy the cool night air. Jen was beginning to lost interest in the date, John could tell. It had seemed like it was going well at first, but it was becoming apparent as time wore on that John was simply not bringing his all. He could see her eyes drifting towards their waiter, a handsome man more closely related in age to her. He was not going to win this battle. He sighed internally. _Another bloody disaster._ John waited to see the rest of the date taper to a disappointing close.

     Sherlock was running. He had spotted one of the group members, but they had also seen him. He had bolted the moment their eyes locked, confirming any doubts there may have been in Sherlock's mind that he had been right in his deduction. _Damn Lestrade for making me come down here with only one useless man._ The officer in question was nowhere in sight. Of course. Sherlock had tried texting John, hoping that he might have a change of heart and join him. But of course he hadn't responded. Sherlock kept on running, but the other man was extremely fast. He has soon outdistanced Sherlock, and no amount of running on his part would allow him to catch up. _Damn damn damn!_ Sherlock stopped, caught his breath for a few moments, and then grudgingly began walking back to where he had left the officer. _I'll just go home, no use now. The gang has caught wind of this and is long gone by now. It'll take months to track them down again._ Sherlock, for the hundredth time that night, heaved a sigh.

     That was it then. She had left early, saying that she needed to get home as she had work early in the morning (though John had seen her discreetly talk to the waiter when she had gotten up to supposedly go to the bathroom). John decided to walk home, hoping to blow off some of his irritation before having to face Sherlock. _I swear to god, if he still wants me to go anywhere with him I will punch him in his bloody face._ Thinking of Sherlock, John decided to turn on his phone. Messages filled his screen.

_John, I have spotted one of the members. Join me? Could be fun. Better than whatever you're doing now, I'm sure. - SH_

_He got away. Going to have to wait months now for them to slip up again. - SH_

_John, I think that one of them might be following me from the park. Keep you posted. -SH_

     There were no more messages. The last one had been sent ten minutes ago. John panicked. He had no idea where Sherlock had been, so he rushed to Baker Street, running as fast as his legs could carry him. As he reached the flat, he prayed that Sherlock would be there. He rushed up the stairs to find Sherlock pacing the room, seemingly uninjured but agitated.

     “Sherlock, what the hell happened?” Sherlock acted as if he hadn't heard John, wrapped up in his own thoughts. John gritted his teeth and marched over to where Sherlock was standing. He reached up and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. “What happened to you? You didn't text me, you made me think you might have been attacked or killed, what were you thinking? Not even a single word? 'Fine?' Nothing?” John began shouting into Sherlock's face, pulling him closer so that the taller man was hunched down and inches away from John's face. Sherlock's face read surprise and...irritation? _How dare he be angry at me! I'm the one who thought he might be hurt!_ Sherlock pulled away from John and moved to the couch, flopping down in a dramatic heap. “John, it was nothing really. I traded a few blows with the man and sent him on his way. There was really nothing to worry about. And if you had come along with me tonight he wouldn't have tried attacking me, so really-” John cut him off mid sentence. In what seemed like less than a second he had moved across the room and, once again, grabbed Sherlock by the collar. “Do. Not. Put this on me. _You_ were the one who wanted to do this bloody thing tonight and I am not obligated to spend every moment of my life with you! Despite what you might think, I have a life that does not revolve solely around what Sherlock Holmes may fancy at the particular bloody moment. So next time you feel like worrying me to death you can just fu-”

     It was now Sherlock's turn to interject. He shot forward quickly, with enough force to have possibly hurt John had he not been paying attention. Sherlock captured John's mouth with his own, silencing the tirade that had been going on for several seconds too long. _There, silence is so much better._ John pulled away, shock and the vestiges of anger still present on his face. He narrowed his eyes at Sherlock. And then he, in turn, pounced. John pushed Sherlock down into the couch, mouth taking control of the other man's, tongue viciously taking that which John needed. Sherlock attempted to move, but John had him pinned. He grabbed Sherlock's hands and kept them above his head as he continued to angrily attack his mouth. After a minute of this, John allowed Sherlock to come up for air. John kept a stern look on his face, looking to Sherlock for a reaction.

      Sherlock had not been expecting so much force. But if John wanted force, then he would most certainly deliver. Sherlock shot his hands out and pulled John on top of him, using the element of surprise to quickly flip the smaller man beneath him. He saw a look of defiance in John's eyes, and relished the fact that this time he would be the one doing some conquering. Sherlock quickly set to work, hands pinning down John's hips as he kissed up and down his neck, nipping and biting so as to leave marks all over. _My John_ Sherlock thought as he continued at his work. John moaned a slight bit, and Sherlock could tell that he was not pleased he had emitted such a sound. So of course Sherlock continued to elicit those sounds as much as possible. He began to slowly grind against John, ever so slowly rubbing their erections together, letting the friction drive them both mad as he continued to tease John.

     John had suffered as long as he could bear. “Sherlock. This needs to end now.” At first, Sherlock appeared worried, registering that perhaps he had been pushing himself on John. It quickly became apparent that this was not the case as John's hand moved to cup Sherlock's bulge. Sherlock then understood what was truly meant. The two men rejoined mouths, moving themselves slowly towards Sherlock's bedroom door. The bumped into walls as they went, and in the back of John's mind he worried about Mrs. Hudson. But then he brought himself back to the moment, the need that must be filled by the man who was all over him, kissing him, consuming him.

     They finally made their way through the door, and collapsed in a heap on the bed, Sherlock beneath John. John uttered a most feral growl as he nuzzled Sherlock's neck, leaving quite a large bite mark of his own. He ripped off Sherlock's shirt, deriving a small satisfaction from the sound of ripping fabric and the look of dismay on the other man's face. He then removed his own shirt, moving back to Sherlock's mouth and enjoying the new found closeness of skin on skin contact. Their bodies were radiating an intense amount of heat, making the cold London night seem as far away as could be. They moved together, sexual energy feeding from each other as they worked themselves into a frenzy.

     Sherlock finally broke free from the kisses and touches and ripped down on John's pants. He could not quite achieve the same ripping that John had effected on his shirt, but did manage to succeed in breaking off the button. John smirked at the retaliation, and decided to end the game by gently taking of Sherlock's too-it-the-way leg coverings. He exposed his cock, throbbing and slightly wet with pre-cum. John smiled and began to slowly, agonizingly slowly, move his mouth towards it. He gently licked the tip, moving his tongue slowly around the head. Sherlock moaned at the teasing, and John reveled in the power he held over this always superior man. John little by little moved his mouth down, until he had taken the entire member in his mouth. He moved his tongue around Sherlock's cock, slightly humming and feeling the pulse of the man in his mouth. He continued to toy with and tease the man, allowing the moans he gained from Sherlock's mouth to help along his own throbbing erection. After he had tortured the man to his satisfaction, John came up for air. The glossy look in Sherlock's eyes nearly sent John over the edge.

     Sherlock was in ecstasy. No drugs came close. _My god, what have I been missing?_ He pulled John down, hard, for another needful kiss. Sherlock needed to consume him, to have all of John. His hand moved to John's own erection, and reveled in the feel of the throbbing in his hand. John tensed slightly at the contact, but soon gave in to Sherlock's touches and began to moan as he moved his hand back and forth. Sherlock knew that if he continued to listen to John much longer, he would not be able to hold himself back. He used his other arm to pull John down to him, bodies pressed together as he wrapped his legs around John, wanting to cover him with his body as much as possible. Their hands both moved down, almost in synchrony, as they each found the others member. They moved together rhythmically, all sweat and heat and energy, moving each other to orgasm. Their cum mixed together as they both released, afterwards collapsing, John rolling off of Sherlock. Their energy spent, they quickly fell asleep.

       The next morning, Sherlock awoke first. He was momentarily disoriented at the sight of himself, naked and not entirely clean, in a rumpled bed. He was also initially surprised to see John in a similar state lying next to him. Sherlock then remembered the events of last night. _Interesting._

  John awoke, momentarily disoriented by being in a different room. However, he quickly realized why he was in Sherlock's bed, and a slow blush crept onto his face. _That definitely happened then._ John turned over, and found himself staring into Sherlock's eyes. “Well then” said John. “Indeed” said Sherlock. John coughed nervously.

“I um, suppose we should discuss-”

“Yes, I agree completely. Last night was an acc-”

“Perfect?” John and Sherlock had spoken at the same time, though had said very different things.

Sherlock quickly fumbled to try and fix what he had said. “What I meant to say was...what happened last night does not need to occur again should you not wish it, you're under no obligation to continue anything you aren't comfortable with, I wouldn't want to push you into anything and what occurred was most likely the result of excited emotions and mutual dissatisfaction with the way our evenings had been going and-” John silenced his rambling with a small kiss.

“Sherlock, shut up. Don't ruin the morning after. We both know exactly why last night happened. And you won't be getting out of a repeat performance.” Sherlock appeared taken aback, but slowly allowed a smirk to appear on his face.

“Well then, shall we get started?”


End file.
